The Host Club Gone Wild
by jrba95
Summary: "What the hell happened last night?" Tamaki and Haruhi wake up in a bath tub after a night of serious partying; the rest of the Host Club is no where to be found. It's a race against time to unite them all, but love and humor get in the way. Soon, they find that they all have a bit of the "Wild Type" in them. Hangover I spin off.
1. Chapter 1

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_Part One: Friday Afternoon_

Deep within the bowels of Ouran, Haruhi Fujioka slaved the day away at the hands of demanding teachers and equally demanding friends. The weight of the heavy books preparing her to be a brilliant lawyer harried her slender frame; the frantic tugs from the twins tossed her like a turbulent ocean; and Kyoya's mocking additions to her debt dragged her wallet to the ground.

Yet, somehow, at the end of each and every day she pushed open the opulent doors that led to Ouran's courtyard and the world beyond the flippancy and frivolity she witnessed day in and day out. Haruhi stood straight and strong as the fresh air cleansed her nose of her classmates' expensive perfumes and the spicy odor of old books. It was a crisp spring afternoon, threatening playfully to get warmer from the early summer sun. Each step she took towards the majestic wrought iron gate released stress and annoyances from her body like dying leaves from a tree. She opened her eyes and everything seemed bright.

_Things should always be this peaceful, _she reflected blissfully, shedding her formal blue blazer. Hints of liberation often flooded her when she was free of the article of clothing that marked her as a boy. The jacket went on, and though she wasn't a different person, everyone perceived her as one. But, as it stood, she did it for friendship now, nothing more. Yet, voluntary or no, she felt relief to be free of it at the end of the day. _Here _I _am, _she thought. _It's so stressful to have to hide. But now, things are just…a little bit too quiet. _

Her simplistic commute route ran through her head as she carelessly walked through the gates. Joyfully, she waved at some of the chauffer's she was familiar with. Two days of blissful weekend accompanied by her studies and her coveted bed awaited her at home.

She stepped onto the street. Before she could even turn her head in reaction to the noise, a jet black Rolls Royce skidded to the curb just before her step, causing her to fall back to the concrete with a shriek and a condemning curse.

"What's the big ideee—HEY!" Haruhi shrilled as what felt like a rich leather sack slid over her head, darkening the bright world in a single dark shadow. Over her muffled protests she heard two dreaded voices say in unison, "Got her boss!" Haruhi froze and groaned. All thoughts of a serene afternoon vanished in a sad puff of smoke now that she was in the hands of the twins.

"Well get her in, then," Tamaki's smooth voice emerged from the car's interior. Without a second thought, Hikaru and Kaoru pushed her onto the velvety seat as if she were a hardened criminal rather than their best friend.

"You guys are going to pay for this," Haruhi snarled as they snapped the door shut. She waited until the car began to roll away to rip the sack from her head. Once fresh air hit her lungs she coughed lightly, and then growled before spinning on Tamaki. She glared at the fool who was sitting complacently across from her.

"You idiot," she began heatedly, "How many times do I have to tell you not to kidnap—"

Tamaki simply raised a cool hand to command her silence, then looked down his nose at her with frighteningly critical eyes. Haruhi's insides froze; never had she seen her senpai look so severe. She quieted and sat attentively.

"You're in a lot of trouble, young lady," Tamaki said in a low voice. "Now put that bag back on and sit quietly." A slight hint of humor snuck back into his voice as Haruhi did as she was commanded with little more than a disgruntled glare. "If we are going to do this right, we must all play the part. Right?"

Haruhi groaned.

"Ok, Miss Fujioka, what do you have to say for yourself?" Kyoya Ootari mused, unseen in a dark corner. A singular lamp stand broke through the infinite black room; Haruhi winced at the brightness after she allowed the twins to remove the blindfold from her eyes. Slowly, six sets of intimidating eyes came into her view from the darkness. She scoffed and shook her head.

"All I have to say is that I think you all have finally lost your minds!" Haruhi scowled. She rose from her seat, prepared to lash out at her hidden friend when two small, sticky hands grabbed her wrists and forced her non-too gently.

"You've gone too far this time, Haru-chan," Honey squeaked before retreating once again into the unknown like a floating ghoul.

Haruhi folded her arms and rolled her eyes. She was used to role playing with these fools, but usually she got the memo. Even more often, Tamaki made sure she was the "princess" of the show. The accused seemed a little bit too drastic. "What? Did I buy you guys the wrong kind of instant coffee? Once again, if you want a specific kind then you have to go buy your own!"  
"Why didn't you tell us Haruhi?" She could practically hear the twin's mischievous sneers. One said, "After all this time!"; and the other: "We trusted you."

Haruhi's eyes narrowed. This had gone far enough. "Tell you _what?_" Harauhi exploded. " I don't know what you are talking about and I'm sick of the games! I was actually hoping to be in bed by now, but _nooo! _You guys never know when to quit."

She was met by a disapproving silence. After a crisp pause, Kyoya stepped into the light, pushing up his glasses with a dainty finger. "Haruhi, why didn't you tell us we are your _only_ friends?"

The lights turned on, but as soon as Haruhi saw her friends' faces filled with pity for her, she wished the lights had stayed off. It was just too ridiculous for her to take!

"My _only _friends!" she shrieked. _Damn obnoxious rich people, _her insides cursed. "I have lots of _friends_! Are you guys so conceited that you think you own me all to yourself? What about Arai! You met Arai; he's my friend."

"_Wrong!"_ Tamaki and Hikaru snapped simultaneously. Tamaki continued, "Though spurned lovers may be defaulted into the 'friend-zone', they really belong to your awkward acquaintance category."

"What about the kids in my neighborhood! I see them almost as much as I do you guys."

Kaoru snickered. "Who are you talking about; the kid who stuck gum in your hair or your nosy landlady? Oh yeah, they just love you!"

Haruhi paled. "Uh," she stuttered weakly, "the girls at the Host Club?"

"CLIENTS!" the king and the evil doppelgangers snarled like rabid dogs.

As if her skeletal system melted into a lifeless puddle, she sunk deeper into her chair with a defeated sigh. In a civilized mien, Tamaki lowered himself on a knee next to her. Like a shining knight, he took her limp hand in his and held it close to his heart. "Dear Haruhi, you mustn't hide your truest nature from your beloved friends as you do with the world! It must be exhausting you poor thing!"

Haruhi straightened, tugging her hand away. _You have no idea, _she grimaced.

Tamaki went on, "Daddy tries to put you in dresses Haruhi! Daddy tries to keep his little girl just that: _a little girl! _But you keep resisting me to the point that Mommy says you are going to grow up," he paused for a moment as tears began to spring to his eyes, "_gender confused!"_

The twins wrapped their arms around a sobbing Honey and wiped the mock tears from their own eyes. "It's just so sad!" Honey wailed into Usa-chan's fluffy ears.

Haruhi almost fell out of her chair! "Gender confused," she roared, nearly causing Tamaki to shoot across the room. "You are _not_ turning me into a dyke!" The twins covered Honey's ears defensively. "And you are the last people that I would figure to be homo-phobic!"

Kyoya stepped before Haruhi's chair, his shoes slowly clicking against the concrete. "Most certainly not, Haruhi, you are right. But as our friend we need to look out for your best interest, since you obviously cannot do so for yourself. Don't be ignorant, Haruhi," Kyoya gave her an accusing glance down from his great height. "If you spend all your time with us _boys, _then you have to time to be a _girl. _And we wouldn't be gentlemen from Ouran's acclaimed Host Club if we stood in the way of such an important feminine feat!"

"Indeed," Tamaki chirped, smacking away the dust his fine blazer accumulated from the garage corner. "Which is why, effective immediately, the Host Club will be participating in the epitome of a "girls' night". Tonight, the Host Club will have its first ever official sleepover!"


	2. Chapter 2

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_Part Two: The Plan_

Haruhi's jaw dropped to the floor as Tamaki's proposal resonated through the room. Her stately male companions clapped formally around her.

_This can't be happening! _Her insides tensed like a cable stretched too far. She had a feeling that tonight she might go much too far; perhaps she might snap. Haruhi glared critically at her friends, and couldn't help but smirk. Everyone looked so hopeful; even Kyoya-sempai had an amused half-grin creeping up his chin. She sighed and adopted her most condescending tone. "Wow," she droned, "That's a disaster waiting to happen." Tamaki looked as though his hopes and dreams were plowed into the ground by her harsh words. Yet, she went on. "A _girl's _night? If you guys think I'll be interested in that, then you obviously don't know me at all!" Like dust in the wind the rest of the young men dwindled to nothing, just like their plan.

Honey quickly sped to Haruhi's side, tears quickly springing to his wide eyes. "But Haru-chan," he whimpered. With an abrupt hand, Haruhi silenced her senior and moved to rise from her seat.

"This is ridiculous. I'll see you guys on Monday when you hopefully have found your marbles."

"Haru-chan, no!" the twins and Tamaki screeched like a weepy choir. "Please don't leave us! Don't leave!"

A desperate hand gripped her wrist. She recoiled in distaste, propelling herself into an immovable force that nearly knocked her down. Sheepishly Haruhi looked up at the obstacle, and flinched when she saw Mori's intimidating silhouette looming over her. Suddenly, Mori knelt before her, clasping her hand in his. Haruhi was surprised to paleness when the older boy summoned the dashing grin he saved only for the prettiest girls in the Host Club or for Honey. When their eyes met, Mori purred, "Please."

Haruhi collapsed back in her chair, dazed. "You guys really want to do this, don't you?"

They all surrounded her like loving puppy dogs, nodding fervently. Kyoya shook his head from behind Haruhi's chair, "I don't think you are going to be able to snake your way out of this one, Miss Fujioka."

Haruhi shook her head, snapping her out of temptation. "I don't think it's going to matter. My dad won't approve of me spending the night with six boys." She smiled in pleasure at the boys' horrified faces.

Kyoya snickered. "Not so fast Haruhi. My sources informed me that your father is away at a concert this weekend. You are on your own for the next forty-eight hours. That's plenty of time to have the time of your life, doesn't it seem?"

The memory of that morning surged into her mind like a roaring train.

"_Arashi! Arashi! Arashi!" Ranka and Misuzu bounced through the hallway, finishing up Ranka's packing for their favorite band's concert the coming weekend. Misuzu had burst into the Fujioka apartment early that morning and torn through the place like a flamboyant tornado with Haruhi's father. Haruhi's curtailed sleep due to the incessant noise irritated her. Like a sleep deprived slug, she heaved her frame across the floor, her head snaked around the door. Her drowsy eyes permeated the darkness as she glared at the blissful men, flitting around like school girls rather than middle aged men. As quickly as Misuzu had arrived, he rushed out the door, begging Ranka to speed along too. With a girlish giggle Ranka waved to his friend, halting only a moment to notice his daughter's haunting husk from her bedroom. "Haruhi," he chimed. "I'll be back Monday. You know the drill. Lock the door; do your homework; emergency numbers on the fridge—Oh why am _I _telling you this. You are such a good girl," Ranka gushed. Faced with Haruhi's grim silence, he began to retreat behind the door. But before the door shut, he added, playfully, "And _no_ wild parties now, you hear? Lots of LOVE!"_

Haruhi groaned. _No wild parties, _reverberated through her head like a scream down an empty cavern. Between her and her father, she had always been the more mature of the two. And now it was as if the Host Club were holding her above a pool of shark infested waters by a rope. _What are they doing to me, _she panicked.

She forced herself to look cool and collected, grinning slyly as she opened her mouth to pretentiously state that her father _forbade _her to do just as they were tempting. Tamaki would surely understand that! Yet, once again, Kyoya smoothly beat her to the punch. "Yes, and we know quite well, what your father's opinion would be on this event." He chuckled, darkly. "I think you have once again underestimated my skills of deduction, Haruhi."

Haruhi felt utterly deflated and inexplicably trapped.

"Excellent," Tamaki exclaimed. "Now for stage two of the plan: Where will we have our little slumber party?"

From the corner, the twins exchanged impish glances. As their lips stretched into wide smiles, their hands raised simultaneously, preparing to present their solution. "Our mom, wouldn't mind allowing us to have a little sleep over."

Tamaki rushed over to flip their chairs, pushing them into the dusty garage floor. "You devilish doppelgangers!" he cursed. "Any sleepover of yours would be transformed into a scandalous debacle! If anything," suddenly his tone became charming, and airy, "the party should be held at my house. All party amenities would be accounted for to the nth degree!"

"No," Haruhi said simply.

Tamaki wilted like a dried flower. "But Haruhi," he whimpered.

"No way in hell, sempai," was her curt response.

Pondering silence filled the room. Punctually, Kyoya stated diplomatically, "Well my house is out of the question for obvious reasons. The Morinozuka family, I believe, requires more silence than we can promise. The Haninozuka family…let's just say, have a bit too much testosterone for our "girls' night out" to be affective, Honey aside." Honey beamed innocently. "Which leaves…"

Again, six sets of expectant eyes bored into Haruhi's soul, fighting against her every resistant like a battering ram of desperation.

"You have got to be kidding me," she whimpered into the color of her shirt.

Without even obtaining her permission, the boys immediately began to celebrate their certain victory.

"Yay!" Honey wrung his chubby arms around Mori's neck and swayed. "Sleepover at Haru's house! Sleepover at Haru's house!"

Only the twins looked slightly miffed. "This is going to be so boring," they groaned to themselves.

But then Hikaru tipped his head to one side and brought a finger to his mouth, deep in thought. After a moment he smiled. "Ya' know, Kaoru," he mused. "It doesn't have to be boring."

Kaoru laughed, and said quiet enough for only his twin to hear, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

But of course.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_Part 3: Preparation _

Haruhi could hardly imagine the horrors the Host Club had in store for her tonight. She had had her fair share of slumber parties with the girls in elementary school; they were innocent but for the childishly cruel games. She feared that though she was nearly a decade older, the parties would hardly have matured much with Tamaki and the Hitachiin twins holding the reins. She prayed that the worst thing they could come up with would probably be the most outrageous chick flick and opting to do each other's nails. Haruhi smirked at the thought of braining Tamaki if he dared suggest starting a pillow fight. Maybe she was exaggerating; maybe she was overestimating the danger tied to a girls' night; maybe the night would be boring. The _boys _would be out of their element, after all.

_Then why are Honey and Mori escorting me home? _Haruhi's nerves shot tense once more. The boys walked in step with her as they approached her apartment. The moment the meeting adjourned, they had whisked her away as the others began scheming the night like criminals. While Mori remained a silent figure as usual, Honey's mouth was running a million miles an hour, articulating all of his dreams of "Haruhi's" party to her like an expectant child on his birthday. "I want slushies and soda and…well cake of course…POPCORN! Popcorn is a necessity at slumber parties, I'm sure. Have you ever had kettle popcorn? It both salty and _sweet!_ Can you believe it? It's delicious. My mom had some imported all the way from rural America because she knew I love it so much. Not as much as cake though. Hmmm, maybe you and me can make kettle corn cake. Oh!"

Haruhi winced, but faked grinned to appease the energetic teen. When she chalked up the nerve to ask the pair why they had bothered walking her home, Honey answered simply, "Well, to help you get ready, silly." Mori nodded. But Haruhi didn't believe them for a moment. _More like trying to make sure I don't escape, _she mused; and who better than Japan's two best martial artists? Her premonitions about the night returned with amazing speed.

It wasn't until she opened her door, revealing the shocking interior, that her homes were completely dashed.

"What the hell is this, Sempai," she shrilled. Catering crews were flitting to all the confines of her cramped apartments, setting up feminine hors d'oeuvres and platters of quintessential sweets for the perfect slumber party. Professional party planners were organizing favors and typical games that looked so dainty that they were hardly recognizable as mutilated forms of "girl" games. And worst of all, her whole apartment was a sea of pink and glitter.

"Tamaki," Haruhi hollored accusingly, "where are you!"

The man in questioned emerged from the ruckus as if it all revolved around his personal aura. "Ah, Haruhi, I've seen you've arrived safely. See, my dear, you have nothing to worry about. Daddy told you that everything would be taken care of to the smallest detail…"

Haruhi cut him off by grabbing him firmly by the wrist, dragging him out the door. "Sempai we need to have a talk!" Like a wild animal, Haruhi thrust open the door with enough force to nearly tear it off its hinges, but was blocked by a casual looking Kyoya. His critical glance of his surroundings ignored Haruhi's obvious annoyance.

"This is a fiasco," he murmured. Something slightly reminiscent of hope sparked inside of Haruhi. "Everyone," Kyoya commanded. "Think of what you are doing! Does this look like the stereotypical girl's oasis? Honestly, it's like you people have no creative initiative!" Haruhi lowered her head in despair.

Honey's eyes amplified at the sight of glistening cakes waiting for his savage appetite. Like a magnet, he surged to their position on the kitchen counter. As he prepared to pounce, Mori snatched him like a kitten by the scruff of his neck, and dragged him away with a discouraging shake of his head. The caterers added three more trays of pink sweets as soon as the coast was clear.

With a vicious scowl, Haruhi tossed away Tamaki's hand and gave her most severe glare up to the tall boys. "Listen you two! You can't even recognize my apartment. And how much is this going to cost me, _Kyoya_?"

The affronted businessman hid his face behind a think binder as he computed sums. "Well, Haruhi as you are the elected host of this event, there is a…oh, look behind you. I think someone is trying to get your attention."

Warily, Haruhi turned, wondering what new surprise or expense was going to broad side her. However, only a silver platter of savory red fish was wafted under her nose. Her senses rejoiced and she found herself speechless.

"Fancy tuna, miss?" a plump chef innocently asked. Behind the drooling Haruhi, Tamaki and Kyoya snickered; she was putty in their hands now.

"Keep up the good work, guys," she sighed as she was lured away by the jolly chef and his delectable tuna.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_Part 4: The Beginning_

"Haru-chan!" Honey leapt into Haruhi's arms and together they collapsed back into the sea of plush animals that recently became the Fujioka living room. Upon their cushioned landing, the boy immediately began to perform backstrokes in his newly found stuffed wealth. Fondly, Haruhi cracked a smile at one of the joyful teddy bears.

"I guess Usa-chan has lots of friends now, eh, Honey? Sempai?" Honey, who had wrestled is way out, was gnawing through the pastries in the kitchen like a rabid animal. Indifferent, she shrugged, and struggled to get up. She had to push and shove out of the dense mass of toys until she was spat out onto the linoleum floor of her kitchen with a tuck and a roll.

Coming out of the suffocating daze, she heard tumultuous laughter leaking from her bedroom down the hall. Haruhi crawled to the slightly ajar door and peered in before entering. The lights were off, but the whole room was illuminated in the pale blue glow of the wall sized flat screen television that Tamaki had brought for the occasion. The rich aroma of freshly popped popcorn from the vintage popcorn maker shoved in the corner, seeped through the air. Mori lay lifelessly below the opening, mouth agape to receive the buttery snack. He was the only one not glued to the movie on the screen. After narrowing down a long list of quintessential chick flicks, the twins emphatically chose _Mean Girls _to begin the night.

"I'm surprised," Kyoya mused. "There is much to learn about the desires and inner psyche of females from these videos. As media that targets teenage girls particularly, this provides us with tips to satisfy our customers that our general masculinity could never have dreamed of."

Tamaki smirked. "Please Kyoya, this stuff would be more obvious if you paid more attention to the ladies than you do your lap top." Kyoya's plump pillow whipped through the darkness, clobbering the side of Tamaki's head, and hurled him to the ground in between the twins. The twins faces were pained with boredom.

"Boss, we're bored," Kaoru sighed, dumping his bowl of popcorn on Tamaki's stationary head.

"Yeah, where's all this fun you promised," Hikaru sneered, popping the kernels on Tamaki's forehead into his own mouth.

"Lesh pway gamesh!" Honey, his mouth speckled with cake crumbs, burst into the room.

Everyone nodded. "Not a bad idea," Tamaki muttered. He sprang to his feet. "Haaaarrrruuuuhhhiiii!" he chirped.

From the door frame, Haruhi groaned. "Yeah, sempai?"

The lights flicked on, illuminating the room as well as Tamaki's idea. "Haruhi, I want you to tell us what are your favorite games to play at sleep overs. What would make this slumber party _complete_?"

She sat cross-legged and touched a pondering finger to her lip. Nothing positive was coming to mind. "Well," she said, "They are all kind of gross. There was this one game where we passed ice cubes from mouth to mouth until they melted…"

All of the males in the room paled. The idea of a miniature Haruhi opening her mouth to another small girl was repulsive. Now it was their turn to dread what the rest of the night had in store. Tamaki's resolve was to the point of shattering like glass. Quite aware of his friend's fragility, Kyoya pushed him behind him to prevent any rash action in the name of Haruhi's innocence.

"Uh, Haruhi," Kyoya coughed, "What _other_ games are common. I think only the twins would enjoy that game." The twins shrugged.

"Any other game," a frightened Honey shrieked.

Haruhi smirked and rose to her feet. "I don't know much. Spin the bottle? Our version wasn't a kissing game, but a drinking game." She quickly began again when the boys looked horrified again. "Not an alcoholic game, you idiots! We were only in primary school. We used soda or sugar drinks."

The room emitted a heavy sigh of relief. Hikaru and Kaoru, however, from their vertical fetal position on the ground, exchanged knowing glances. In unison, their lips stretched into wiry grins.

"That's boring," they pouted with a twinkle in their eyes.

"Well, what do you want to do," Haruhi questioned, annoyance creeping into her tone.

"Your version of spin the bottle," they chirped. Haruhi glared at them, so they continued, "But as a _real _drinking game."

"NOOO!" Tamaki exploded like a massive volcano and descended like fiery lava onto the club members. "This is not that kind of trashy party!"

Haruhi guffawed. "So you admit that this party is trash!"

Tamaki jerked in shock. "NO!" he roared again. "This is a club sponsored event! We cannot let something so foolish to tarnish our names!"

Honey giggled. "Not so, Tama-chan! You said that this was just a friend get together."

"I don't see why not," Kyoya sighed, although he didn't sound excited by the idea of playing a drinking game either.

Once again, Tamaki's volcano erupted with enough power to shake the floor on which they stood. "ABSOLUTELY NOT! You think I don't know you guys! You all will get drunk and all hell will break loose. I know what this is about. You jerks just want to see Haruhi drunk don't you? Don't you! Well I'll tell you what…"

As Tamaki continued his rant, Haruhi suddenly looked reflective. Her cheeks flushed. "Ya' know," she mumbled. "The one time I did get drunk was with my dad one holiday. He told me I went psycho."

With that statement, the twins could feel their insides curling with delight. This was too good to resist. If they were going to act they had to do so right then!

"And another thing," Tamaki hollered, "How am I…we…ever supposed to get Ranka's trust if we intoxicate his…"

"Hush, now, boss," Kaoru purred into Tamaki's left ear. The twins appeared like two devils on each of Tamaki's shoulders, no angel counterpart was in sight. Tamaki was silenced.

"Yeah Suoh," Hikaru butted in. "Your chasing away quite an opportunity here!"

"What are you talking about?" Tamaki spat.

"We're talking about being able to see Haruhi in a whole new light!"

"She just said that she goes utterly _crazy _when she gets tipsy. You've always wanted to see her with her hair down…hypothetically."

"All we want to do is get a little tipsy."

"Yeaaaahhhh! And if things go wrong and she gets wasted…well, she'll just be your little damsel in distress, won't she?"

"Mmmhhmmm! You'll take care of her like a loving daddy, won't you?"

"Well…"

Tamaki's head rolled back and forth as the twins whispered more sweet nothings into her ear. Just as a drop of drool trickled to his lip at the thought of such a delectable scenario, he snapped out of it. His took his head in his hands, defeated.

"All in favor of a drinking game, raise your hand," he grumbled. Every hand ascended.

Tamaki groaned. "Fine," he muttered. "But only till we get tipsy! There is no point in making complete fools out of ourselves!"

The sound of cheers drowned out Tamaki's anger. Rapidly the twins got to work. Before they could snap their fingers, the living room floor was cleared of all traces of juvenile fluff in favor of a single dark bottle at the epicenter. The group stood at the doorway, just staring at the solitary bottle. What the twins spoke next evoked awe from them all.

"That gentlemen…and lady…is a very rare form of Saki. Our mother and father imported it from the West Coast of the United States twelve years ago, forsaking it for nothing more than a collectable. Featuring the artistic abilities of Californian vineyards, Japanese rice fields, and strange concoctions from the Native Americans, all living on the coast, this Saki is the combination of some of the most delectable beverages known to man."

"Are you sure your parents won't miss it?"

The twins scoffed. "Of course not! We won't drink it all. Just most of it. Then we'll fill it with water."

Hikaru nodded. "Besides it's just to say they have a bottle. If they do drink it, they'll just blame it on the fact that it is American. Spirits there are supposed to be damn closed to water anyway."

As they all sat in a circle around the glorified bottle, Kyoya stated, "Well, that certainly takes the idea of glamor away from such as _delectable _bottle of Saki."

"Ah, shut up, _Mom,_" the twins jeered. "So basically, Haruhi, if it lands on you then you drink?"

She shook her head. "Well, I kind of left out this part…I didn't expect that you guys would want to play…It's _Drink or Dare _with a mixture of _Spin the Bottle_! Either you accept the dare agreed upon by everyone else, or you drink. The bottle decides who goes."

Tamaki turned a deathly shade of gray and began to wilt. "I have a bad feeling about this," he said through gritted teeth.

"Let's begin," Mori stated darkly in his most authoritative voice.

"Let's," Haruhi agreed. She spun. The bottle whirled, then slowed, until it's wax corked nozzle was pointing at an attentive Honey. The rest of the group huddled for a moment and hissed ideas out for dares. "Ok, Honey-sempai," Haruhi began, "Your dare is to…"

"Drink!" he squealed. Everyone stared at him with their mouths agape. "I chose drink," he said again, in his most innocent voice. With a low chuckle, Hikaru grabbed the bottle and uncorked it. Honey snatched it from him and took a mighty swig. Mori snatched the bottle away from him after his first hefty swallow. The boy looked dazed for a moment, his eyes were glassy. After a pause he hiccupped and fell back to the ground. As the club members all stared at him in horror, Honey kicked the base of the bottle, propelling it into a spin. Without lifting his head to look, he called out "Drink or Dare, Haru-chan…I'd suggest Drink." A wobbly smile tugged at his cheeks.

Haruhi looked stunned. "Alright then…drink!"

The bottle spun again.

"Drink," Kaoru stated confidently.

And again…

"I might as well," Kyoya conceded. "Drink!"

"About time!" Hikaru shouted. "I'm thirsty for a draaank!"

"Ah," Mori murmured as the bottle touched his lips.

Tamaki looked at the suspicious liquid sloshing around in the dark bottle. With a defeated sigh, he lifted the bottle to his lift without a word.

"Ok now…for real, now," Haruhi giggled. "Drink or _Dare?"_


	5. Chapter 5

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_Part Five: 10:30 Saturday Morning_

_**A/N: PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE REVIEW! I am very encouraged by reviews, so please just take two seconds and give me a hello, I don't care. I am really grateful for all of your readings etc. I'm not going to obnoxiously ask all the time… so just get in the good habit of giving me a shout out. Thank you ALL soooo much! I am here to please **___

The first sensation Haruhi experienced was the pounding in her brain, as if a kick boxer had declared her skull his mortal enemy. Her neck, scalp, and finger tips were cooled against an immovable, frigid force, as if she were pressed against a glass cloud. Only her stomach and its toxic contents were moving and churning. A force on her torso kept growing heavier and heavier, pushing bile up her throat. Her lungs were pressed flat to the point where she couldn't breathe. Annoyed by this weight, she opened her eyes, but could only see a curtain of yellow, illuminated by a dip glow. She blinked and the curtain came into focus. Different hues of blond grain cascaded over her eye lids. Hair? Haruhi became aware of a moist heat on the side of her neck. Rhythmically, the heat rescinded and increased, much like…breathing. Her eyes shot open. She tried to lash out her arms, but a warm obstacle restrained her at the elbow. Her hands slapped down on a smooth rubbery surface. Someone was on top of her!

Despite her dizziness, she summoned her strength to lift herself up from underneath the stranger. Haruhi slid up the side of what she analyzed to be a light, marble bath tub. The blond head drooped down to her bosom as she sat up, cradled in a lacy brassiere that she didn't remember putting on. She struggled to coordinate her droopy hand enough so she grasp the yellow mop and tug up the head to identify its owner. She shrieked!

"Tamaki! _Dammit! GET OFF OF ME!"_

Tamaki was roused by Haruhi's crazed squirming. He lifted his heavy head and their eyes met. He was utterly dazed and one of his eyes was puffed purple and shut. Still, he managed to offer a dashing smile. "Hello, Haruhi," he said forcefully, as if he were restraining a nauseous gag.

Enraged, Haruhi formed her hand into a small fist and shoved it into his bruised cheek. With a pained howl, he leapt off of her, jutting his head against the steel faucet in the process. Haruhi scrambled out of the tub and rolled onto the cold floor. There she lay, stunned. Tamaki rubbed his head, but then tucked it between his knees and wretched. Haruhi ignored his groans as she tried, failed, and tried again to scramble to her feet. By the time she stood without wobbling, Tamaki had pushed himself out of the tub and onto the spot where she had been moments ago.

"What happened last night," he moaned, casting his hands over his eyes to shield them from the light.

"I don't care. What were you doing on top of me?"

Tamaki winced and looked her in the eye. He stood up slowly, but not without swaying to and fro. "You don't think we did anything…dishonorable? Do you?"

Haruhi shook her head and discovered a vanity when she leaned up against it. "No, I don't."

Tamaki grumbled. Then, his head shot up in shock. "Who the _hell _is that?"

That was the first utterance that Haruhi heard from him that was anything less than gentlemanly. She spun around to catch a glimpse of what had him so riled. In the mirror of the grand marble vanity, Tamaki's ghastly visage glared back at them. His hair was disheveled and pasted together with dusty glue, and his face was painted with the bruise over his left eye and dried blood clinging to his nostrils. He was dressed only in lacy boxer shorts that matched Haruhi's bikini set. Haruhi dared to take a quick glance at her, and regretted it. Her hair was matted with slimy green goo that dripped down to her brow. Cheap mascara, which she had no memory of putting on, was drizzled on her face. And though she couldn't completely tell, she believed she saw a bright pink hickey on her neck.

Horrified, she backed away and tried to send her most ferocious glare Tamaki's way, but he only greeted her with a large plush towel. "Please, put it on," he begged. "As if our predicament isn't salacious enough, we have no idea what awaits us beyond that door." Haruhi nodded and snatched the towel. After securely wrapping it around her partially nude frame, she went to the ominous bathroom door and opened it a crack to look out.

"Wow," was all she could mutter. "Come look!"

He joined her and opened the door wider. Before them, lay an array of chaos. Soda bottles, extinguished cigarettes, wasted food, and debris littered the floor in the wake of the aftermath of a party. They assumed that the party must have been deceased for some time for the floor was vacant of all life. Any energy that filled the room the night before, lingered in the elegant decorations.

"Where are we?" Haruhi asked, dryly. Nothing seemed familiar. Though the last place she remembered being was her living room, her whereabouts now were completely unknown.

"I haven't the slightest idea." Tamaki sounded like a lost child. "Where's my phone? It's time for this fiasco to end!" He left her side to start looking frantically about the floor for his cell phone. He peered inside the toilet for good measure and gave a furious hiss. With a look of disgust, he reached in and withdrew a dripping metal square from the bowl. "Woe is me," he whined. He flipped open his phone, only to view its dead screen.

In a frustrated roar, she cast the towel away from her body and charged out the door. She climbed over the rugged mountains of garbage that created shadows in the blanched morning light in fervent search of a telephone.

"Haruhi," Tamaki groaned. "Don't leave me!" He raced after her. When Haruhi stopped cold at the entrance to a filthy kitchen, Tamaki collided with her and they stumbled into the room together.

"What's wrong, Haruhi?" Tamaki demanded, loudly.

"Shut up, you idiot!" a stranger hollered in a raspy voice. A young man lay prostrate on the cool tile. He glared up at the two teenagers; they were disgusted by the neon bile clinging to his five o'clock shadow. The man pulled himself up into a cross-legged sit and smiled as his blurry eyes settled on their two stunned faces. "Ah, it's you two love-birds. Good thing we locked you guys in your nest! Too bad about your friends, though." He fell back to the ground.

Haruhi decided to ignore the love-bird comment that left Tamaki blank and knelt to shake more answers out of the man. "What happened to our friends? Who are you? What happened last night?"

The man groaned and pushed her back into Tamaki's arms. "Didn't I say shut up? Is this any way to treat your host after that awesome-ass party last night?" He sighed and continued after a hefty belch. "I am Nobu. I had this killer party with my university friends and you four idiots showed up around 5 a.m. The police showed up soon after. Hehe, looks like us three are the only survivors. Hey, girl, make your pretty self useful and make me some coffee!"

Tamaki, full of rage at the insult, hurled himself on Nobu and began shaking him. However, before long, they both became nauseous from the motion and ceased all fighting but for slurred cussing. Haruhi waited for their finale before she stated, "There are supposed to be seven of us."

"I saw _four,_ dammit!" Nobu groaned as he rubbed his temples.

"Well what did the other two look like?"

"What's in it for me?"

Quick as a flash, Haruhi rummaged through the stained cabinets and boiled water. Promptly, she presented both Tamaki and Nobu with steaming cups of instant coffee. As soon as Nobu took a grateful sip, he spluttered, "They were two tall black haired kids. One with glasses; one was freakin' tweaked out of his mind. He made half this mess as if he were looking for something. When the police came that one totally flipped his shit! I don't think they got that one. The glasses kid was like trying to talk friendly with them. He was weird. That's all I got boo."

"Mori and Kyoya," Tamaki affirmed.

A frustrated silence ensued as the two hosts pondered about what their first step should be. When a sharp ring pierced the quiet, the three jumped and clapped their hands to their ears. Haruhi had to push aside towers of soggy pizza boxes, bento containers, and liquor bottles in order to reach the tangled phone in a far corner.

"Hello?" she asked, cautiously.

"Haruhi? It's Kyoya. Where the hell is your phone? You've got to help me! This is my eighth 'one phone call.'"


	6. Chapter 6

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_Part Six: _What the hell happened?

_**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. That was really special to me….can I see some more please? I love what you guys have to say! **_

After burrowing through Nobu's apartment, Haruhi and Tamaki located what appeared to be their clothes in the refrigerator. However, the fact that Haruhi's was a seductive sparkly dress with neon green trim and Tamaki's was normal but for an ugly checkered sweater vest, made them have serious doubts. By the time they changed, their host had already doused himself in Haruhi's coffee and passed out once again on the kitchen floor. They decided that no thank you note was necessary.

She ground her sleepy eyes in time to the turbulence of the city bus that she and Tamaki were riding on the way to Kyoya's captivity. She felt the eyes of judging old ladies and amused children glued to their ridiculous appearance. She didn't care. Kyoya was in jail, she had no idea where most of her friends were, and her plans for a peaceful weekend had been mockingly shattered.

"What the _hell _happened last night?" Haruhi breathed, as she lowered her head to her palms.

Tamaki shook his head and offered a bitter smile. "No clue. I can't remember a thing!"

"That's for sure," Haruhi groaned. She pushed a hand through her sticky hair and was horrified at the green goo that clung to her fingers. "The last thing I remember is that stupid game we played at my apartment. I hardly recall anything after that. It's all one big feeling of euphoria." She scoffed, "I should have known that the twin's elixir would be just as wacked as them!"

Tamaki shook his head again. "You're going to think me crazy, but all I can remember is some girl hopping out of a cake. Pretty crazy, huh?"

"Probably a drunken dream," she said curtly. The conversation ended as silence covered them. Haruhi gazed out the window, entranced by the blurred red trees. She could not recognize the part of the city they were in. It was cleaner than her neighborhood, but less opulent than the district that Ouran held claim to. The people that passed by looked confident and determined as they charged down the city walkways. Haruhi envied them: They were composed; they had an idea of what was going on.

Tamaki was wracking his brain until it throbbed for any answer to what had occurred the night before. He could see the faces of the Hikaru, Kaoru, Mori, Honey, Kyoya, and Haruhi clearly. But where were they and why? They were happy and they were together. Now they were all apart and miserable. He had spent the last three years of his life in this city and he knew how large it could be; but he had seen only the small grandeur that his standing allowed him. His friends could be anywhere, but until they were back together in certain safety, he would not be appeased.

"Do you have an idea of where everyone might be?" Tamaki inquired in order to break his mind free of anxiety.

Haruhi didn't turn from her window view to look at him. "Only what Nobu said. Kyoya is in jail and Mori went rogue."

"The only reason that I can think he would do that is if he lost Honey-sempai."

"We lost everyone!" Haruhi growled.

Tamaki smiled mischievously and wrapped an encouraging arm around her shoulders. "Well at least we get some Daddy/Daughter bonding time," he joked. He was begging for her to crack a smile. Haruhi removed his arm as if she handled a repulsive worm. Tamaki's hope and physique descended into sadness. She moped as well.

Quickly, exhaustion overwhelmed them and they unconsciously sagged on each other's shoulders. For the first time since they awakened an hour before, their nausea ceased. Suddenly, a tumultuous lurch thrust them to the floor of the bus. Tamaki's shoulder collided with Haruhi's spine and she shrieked as he folded on top of her. The hushed laughter and giggled of the other patrons called them to attention.

"Suoh," Haruhi growled as she scrambled to her feet, "Is being on top of me going to become a habit of yours?" He reddened, and began to stutter awkwardly.

"Hey freaks," the portly bus driver shouted over his shoulder, "Get OFF my damn bus!"

They sped through the narrow aisle and leapt off the bus, but not before both sticking their tongues out at the rude chauffer. Their feet barely touched the pavement before the bus screeched away.

The police station stood ominously before them. Haruhi hoped, with a heavy gut, that they had not done anything the night before to put them on the police's most wanted list. Despite their nerves, they summoned their strongest posture before strolling innocently through the massive doors. The interior was pristine, but gray enough to dull their spirits. Before they walked for long, they reached the receptionist's cubical and met her appalled glare.

"More partiers? Jeez, it's like the whole city when wild last night. Don't tell me! You two didn't get caught but are here to bust out one of your loser friends. We've had fifty just like you and it's not even noon."

"Yes ma'am," Haruhi said dully. "Ootori Kyoya, please. What is his bail?"

"25,000 yen," she smirked.

Haruhi gasped for a moment, but grinned evilly when she thought of irony of the situation. Perhaps she could start a debt tab for Kyoya! She turned a sly eye to Tamaki who had already whipped out his wallet and was pilfering through the myriad of bills. Unfortunately, his student ID card popped out with all of the effort.

The receptionist looked at them shrewdly. "I am not allowed to release inmates to minors."

Immediately, Tamaki adorned his kingly attire and focused his enchanting eyes on the woman's dull ones. His dashing smile captivated the sour woman. "Yes, those dastardly rules are a problem, aren't they my sweet. But you are just that: So, so, sweet. You have been the sunshine of my morning and have given me nothing but pleasure in our brief acquaintance. Please, pleasure me a little more; be reckless; break the rules," he leaned in closer, "_for me!"_

"'fraid not," the woman said bluntly.

Without delay, Tamaki retrieved another considerable bill from his wallet. The woman snatched it with blissfully closed eyes and promptly pressed the intercom button. "Bring out the rich brat with the glasses."

A throaty growl reverberated against the sterile walls as great mechanical doors slowly opened. Ominous shoe clicks grew louder. Two shadows emerged; one revealed himself to be a middle aged police officer, the other was a zombie version of their esteemed Kyoya. His glasses were shattered and his frame was weighted down with the same exhaustion that possessed his two friends. He exhaled deeply when he was before them, raised his weak arm, and touched it to Tamaki's shoulder in a sorry excuse for a punch.

"You idiot," he murmured, before leaning sideways into Haruhi's bare shoulder with a snore. Haruhi patted his back, awkwardly. Without giving time for any further interrogation by the police, they quickly retreated to the sunny outer world and out of the authoritative underworld that every teen feared to enter.

Tamaki, like a mother duck, quickly scrutinized Kyoya for any apparent injuries. "Ugh!" Tamaki said, full of outrage, "Poor Kyoya, you look emaciated!"

Kyoya roared, his hungry monster emerging, and Haruhi became very fearful for the survival of the shoulder that Kyoya was leaning on. Her eyes bugged with terror and she quickly skooched away from him. "AB, remember," Tamaki chastised her.

"I need food _now!_" Kyoya uttered with a voice that was hardly even human.

The severely hung over trio burst into the nearest café unfortunate enough to seem appealing to them. The unsuspecting patrons and workers shuddered and cowered as what was left of the Ouran Host Club stomped into the restaurant like Old West ruffians with their guns cocked. Kyoya, pointed to the booth in the farthest corner and immediately the waitresses adorned it with silverware and menus. As he sat down, he grabbed one of the server's shoulders with his intimidating claws. With a horrified squeal, she spun to face him and begged for mercy with her wide eyes.

"Give us the meal it takes the least time to make," he said simply. The waitress fled with an obedient nod. With that, Kyoya collapsed to the booth and swallowed the seat with his whole frame. Carefully, so as not to disturb the beast, Tamaki and Haruhi lowered themselves to the parallel bench. Before long, their food was delivered, but Kyoya swallowed it like a powerful vacuum before they could even smell the deliciousness. Finally polite, he ordered another and some coffee for the three of them.

"What the _hell _happened last night?" Albeit being saturated with enough food to create a calm visage for a moment, the monster in him almost reawakened as he interrogated his friends.

"That is what Haruhi and I have been asking ourselves all morning," Tamaki admitted.

"Are you going to be alright, Kyoya?" Haruhi piqued.

He glared at her.

"I mean," she continued, "you got arrested; your family has a police force; bad news for you!"

Kyoya smiled and took a sip from the coffee when it arrived. "I wasn't arrested by the Ootori's force, thank goodness. However, one of our member's brothers belonged to the mediocre force I was arrested by last night. Let's just say I knew some things about him he wished I didn't. Easily, I got my record to its former pure state and unlimited phone calls. The only thing not in his power was letting me go. I have nothing to worry about. Why do you ask?"

Haruhi coughed and also sipped her coffee. "We woke up in a…at a party. The host said he saw you talking to the police, so I figured your cover might have been blown."

He shook his head fervently. "Did you find out any clues?"

"None other than only Mori, Haruhi, you, and I were together at five this morning. We lost the Hitachiins and Honey sometime before them."

"And you haven't contacted them, why?"

Tamaki looked shiftily from side to side. "My phone was an unfortunate casualty last night."

Kyoya rolled his eyes. "Let's home it is the only one! I am going to call Mori-sempai, first. I do have a small memory of him from last night."

"Was he an invincible, raging giant?"

"Yes, that accurately describes my memory of him."

Tamaki and Haruhi both snickered bitterly.

As they continued to fill their aching bellies with sustenance, Kyoya tried repeatedly with no avail to contact Mori. He refused to allow any emotion such as annoyance or panic to evade his face, but his friends assumed his paranoia due to her fervent texting. Before Kyoya threw in the towel, the doors of the café once again exploded to reveal a monster. However, while everyone else cowered against the noise, the gathered hosts stood up in amazement and awe of the silhouette in the bright doorway.

Mori emerged with a manic look in his eye and wildness in his excited limbs. For the first time, Haruhi understood why Mori was called the "wild-type." His hair was tossed and dirtied like a jungle man; his clothes were ripped and had polka-dotted painted skulls. However, the most surprising thing was the puffy tattoo that was freshly etched on his arm. As he approached his three friends, they too began shrink behind the back of the booth. He towered over them with fiery eyes.

"What the _hell_ happened last night?" Mori rumbled.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_Part Seven: Black Sakura Tattoo Parlor_

_**A/N: Hi Everyone! VERY IMPORTANT: does anyone have a good suggestion for a BETA READER? I am a firm believer in peer editing **____** Just refer one in a PM…or a review lol. Also, check out the cover art I made for this story…its sideways, but I like it. Also, story is loosely based on the Hangover, but the majority is a twist that is very HOST CLUB! THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED 3 ! Also, MY FANFICTION IS NOT CONNECTED TO THE MANGA…JUST WHAT I KNOW FROM THE ANIME….KINDA AU I GUESS. **_

Kyoya sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "Mori-sempai," he droned, "come sit down. Have some coffee. It is disgusting but you will feel better." The tall boy wasn't fazed. "We are discussing last night's unfortunate events."

Mori seemed to float like a phantom over to their booth, looking pained. Haruhi poured him a mug of coffee, but he pushed it away. He just stared longingly at the door as if he were waiting for Honey to come skipping through. He looked so despondent that Haruhi couldn't help but pity him. Unlike their excursion at the Ootori water-resort, this time's absence from his cousin left him looking estranged. Only when an awestruck Tamaki poked the inflamed flesh above Mori's new tattoo, did they get a response from him. He flinched and his eyes rolled to glare at Tamaki.

Tamaki ignored the glance and continued to fond over the tattoo. "Mori-sempai!" he shrilled. "A rose tattoo; oh, and so beautifully inked. It's a testament to your devotion to the Host Club, for sure! You sacrificed your blemish- less skin in order to proudly bear our club's claimed flower. I am stunned with joy."

Kyoya was much less enthusiastic, but hid his emotions behind his cell-phone as he continued to text the absent three members. Still, he tried to be encouraging for his miserable friend. "Well," he hesitated, "it does exemplify your title as the 'Wild type' of the Host Club, no?"

Mori shook his head; glitter fell from his ragged hair. They waited patiently for him to answer. "I don't remember getting it," he admitted.

"Well, that's just another clue," Haruhi considered. They looked at her expectantly. "Check your pockets for a receipt, Mori-sempai. Everyone, let's do the same. That way we can retrace our steps."

They desperately ravaged their pockets in search of anything that would allow things to make sense. Soon, a decent pile of pocket treasures accumulated in the middle of the table. Kyoya was the first to put forth his hand and separated a receipt and a folded piece of paper from the rest of the junk.

"Black Sakura Tattoo Parlor," he said. He had to keep adjusting his glasses so his vision wouldn't be diffracted by the cracks. He lifted up the folded paper and scanned it. "These are song lyrics," he whispered to himself. He offered them to the other three. "Do you recognize these?"

Everyone shook their head. "It says they belong to a band called…" Haruhi paused to giggle, "Chartreuse Tofu." The boys looked at her incredulously, but she insisted upon the name.

Placidly, Kyoya picked up the two pieces of paper and stuffed them inside of his jacket. "Well, this is what we have," he stated. "We will go to the tattoo shop first and see what they know. Mori, is there nothing that you learned in your search that could be beneficial to us." Mori folded his arms and shook his head hotly.

"Alright then, men and Haruhi," Tamaki pronounced heroically. He stood up from his seat and began to stride towards the door. "What are we waiting for? This is our divine mission: Let's get the Club back together!

-H—O—S—T—C—L—U—B—G—O—N—E—W—I—L—D—

As soon as they emerged from the café, Mori's hunter instinct reemerged. Like a blood hound, he set off to find the tattoo shop and his only viable link to Honey's location. His friends were left to jog and pant after him. They tried in vain to snake through the city like fleeting shadows to avoid being noticed and condemned by any gossiping aristocrats that could potentially recognize them.

"Where are we going," Haruhi droned. After trudging through the city for what seemed like forever, she had concluded that no one had a sense of direction. When Kyoya paused to check the GPS on his phone, Tamaki had to restrain Mori by his collar to keep him from speeding off without them.

"The map says we go that we go down this ally to get there quickest," he said warily.

They all lifted their eyes to look at the dark path before them. Starkly contrasting the sunlit street, the ally was saturated with darkness as if it were night time. An aura of mystery and gloom permeated from within like a daunting stench. Dark creatures that more closely resembled monsters than humans lurked about, performing their haunting daily activities.

"Well," Haruhi whimpered in a wavering voiced, "that's an inner city under belly if I ever saw one!"

In an equally unsure voice, Tamaki answered, "Look at us Haruhi. At least we'd fit in."

While the other three were too timid to initiate carrying on, Mori wrenched himself away from Tamaki's restraint and marched on, unafraid. They tipped toed in a huddle behind him. Though they tried to retain a calm mien, every time a grotesquely tattooed and pierced individual glared at them they shivered. Even Mori's sweat dropped when a man who resembled a snake jumped before them and tried to barter away baggies full of powder.

"Mori-sempai, what were you doing in this place last night?" Tamaki breathed in astonishment. Mori grunted.

The Black Sakura Tattoo Parlor was pocketed in a small cranny of the alleyway surrounded by individuals peddling abstract art. They entered into a sea of neon, speckled with posters of tattoo suggestions. Cackling laughter and the buzz of needles created a cacophonous echo that uncomfortably stuffed their ears.

"OMG! Look who it is," a shrill voice bullied its way past all of the other noise and caught the Host Club's attention. They turned and were greeted with a plump young woman. She had a kind face and looked harmless, a fact that made Tamaki and Haruhi sigh with relief. The woman advanced and reached up to grab Mori's cheek. "Mori-chan, it has been _forever_ since your last visit. Like eight hours," she cooed as she wobbled him back and forth. Mori endured the stranger's scrutiny, but his eyes begged for the spectators to take action.

Kyoya cleared his throat. "Excuse me, ma'am, we…" The woman silenced him with a commanding finger. She released Mori and dashed to the back room.

"Takashi!" said joyful high pitched voice. Mori, who was busy rubbing his stretched cheek, shot up in the hope that the squeal belonged to Honey. However, what he saw made his jaw drop! A petite woman with fire engine hair stood in the dark door way. Her body was scantily clad in a bright green body suit and tutu that exposed her midsection. Despite the feral appearance, when Mori peered into her ebony eyes she was certain that she was just as beautiful as she was wild.

His shock prevented him from tensing up when she ran up to him. His protuberant eyes could only see her gallop towards him in slow motion; fields of daisies caressed her bare legs. Instinctively, his arms outstretched to receive his enchanting goddess. To his shattering surprise, the only gift she offered him was a solid punch to the jaw. Suddenly, the world lost its celestial glow and Mori was dumped on the floor of the dank floor of the tattoo parlor. Instead of a seasoned warrior, he felt like a spurned child awaiting the punishment of the crazed woman standing above him.

"What the _hell_ happened last night, Taka-kun?" she whined sweetly. His eyes widened and he paled when she placed her stilettoed foot on his chest. "You were supposed to wait for me at that party. Don't tell me you went off with some other girl, hmmm?!" Mori sweat dropped. His beady eyes crept up to meet Tamaki's, begging for assistance.

Promptly, Tamaki pressed himself close to the mystery woman's frame and ran a finger along her jawline, directing her gaze towards his. His eyes sparkled. "Any friend of Morinozuka-sempai," he declared, "is a friend of mine. Friends are truthful, no? So, I must admit that none of us know _what_ happened last night." He chuckled innocently. "Perhaps," he breathed, "a woman of your exceptional beauty and intelligence can enlighten us."

The girl blinked. In rapid succession, she clamped on Tamaki's forearm and whirled him over her shoulder. He collided with the ground in a heap next to Mori. His eyes were glazed and incredulous drool snaked from his mouth. The girl laughed.

"Tamaki, you cad," she snickered. She turned to Haruhi and lightly punched her arm in a friendly gesture. "I thought you told me you had him under your little finger, girly. Keep your man-whore boyfriend on a leash." She guffawed at her own joke as Haruhi skittered away from her, unamused.

"Listen, Lady," Haruhi grumbled, "I don't know what you are talking about. For one, it is nearly impossible for anyone to keep Suoh Tamaki under their finger." Tamaki growled. "Secondly, said man whore is not my boyfriend." Away from her sight, Tamaki's lower lip wobbled and Mori knowingly patted his shoulder.

"Psh," said the girl, "I don't know who you're fooling, Haru-chan. You two were all over each other last night. Besides, the press doesn't lie." She reached behind her and retrieved a newspaper from the tattooing booth. Her index finger rested on the photograph for the headliner.

Kyoya snatched the paper from her hands. The other three huddled around the paper, desperately trying to get look. The headline proclaimed: **City Over Run by College Parties. **Further reading revealed that the college students on break provided a plethora of parties the night before; as many as ten were busted and raided by the police. While very interesting, the Host Club only had eyes for what the girl had pointed to. In the large picture, fuzzy dots from lights and shadows from frenetic bodies framed a partying couple in the center. The woman hid the man's face from the camera by gripping his head as she was lowering it to hers. Their lips moist lips were close to touching in a position so loving that the Hosts could feel the passion rippling in waves from of the page. But then they noticed that the woman had the same hair cut as Haruhi; the man was adorned in the same hideous outfit that Tamaki was currently wearing.

Both Tamaki and Haruhi recoiled from the paper, hitting the wall behind them. However, while Tamaki saw only plush hearts while his own heart pounded outside his chest, Haruhi was holding hers in. She touched her lips with bewildered fingers.

_I,_ her thoughts stuttered, _I kissed Tamaki last night. Well not surprising; he woke up on top of me in a bath tub. _She pondered more on the image. Haruhi tried, with little success, to reimagine the kiss, but all that would reappear was the newspaper image. Her thoughts calmed and began to advance with intrigue. _I wonder what it was like! _Her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet.

Meanwhile, Tamaki swayed like a bobble head. _Within the Theatre of Tamaki's Mind, he replayed sweet fantasies of the kiss over and over like a broken record. "I love you, Tamaki," Haruhi moaned. She pressed her hips desperately against his own, begging for him to caress the length of her back. Tamaki's mind screeched to a halt and rewound. "I love you, Tamaki," Haruhi moaned again. He reveled in the thought of finally earning Haruhi's love, the dream he had held near for the past year. _

When Kyoya impatiently cleared his throat, he brought both of them to attention. His eyes flashed like a disappointed mother who was highly tempted to reprimand her misbehaving children. "Well," he grumbled, "your reputations aren't exactly in shatters. It isn't exactly easy to determine your identity from this photograph. We wouldn't have been able to be sure without help from…madam, I am most regretful, but I cannot recall your name.

She scrutinized him suspiciously, shifting from foot to foot. "I'm confused, Ootori-kun," she admitted. "You all are acting as if you don't even know me."

"We don't," Haruhi affirmed with a shrug. "None of us can remember of a single thing from last night. So, we'd be really appreciative if you could enlighten us."

The girl grinned maniacally and yanked Mori to her side. He reddened as she glomped tightly to his arm. "I," she said triumphantly, "am Mameha, Takashi's girlfriend."

A random burst of ominous thunder and lightning electrocuted them all turned the Host Club into four steaming and pale individuals frozen in a stringent darkness. Even Kyoya lost his cool demeanor and his lips quivered.

"What?" he demanded, his voice trembled with shock.

Mameha snickered. "Look. Takashi and I have matching tattoos. Isn't it pretty, sweetheart? A rose just like you wanted." She displayed her forearm under Mori's nose. The twin tattoo sparkled for emphasis; his eyebrow rose. She smiled and cupped the enchanted boy's face in her hands.

"Don't worry," she cooed. "I'll tell you poor lost souls everything you need to know."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_Part Eight: Awkward Car Ride_

_**A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ATTENTION! It means a lot to me. Who's ready for a kick start in the romance? Sorry for the long break I had this HUGE paper to write for school that totally swamped me. **_

Like elementary school children, they gathered around Mameha, determined to cling to every word. She poured herself a heaping cup of coffee before lowering herself into an unsuspecting Mori's lap. The poor boy's eyes began to spin and he looked like he was on the verge of a nose bleed.

Tamaki patted his knee sympathetically. He was clutching the newspaper to his chest and occasionally sent fleeting glances at Haruhi. She was resting her head against the wall, appearing to be sleeping off the remainder of her hangover. Their knees were almost touching and he yearned to close the gap. He unrolled the newspaper and hunched around it as he scanned the picture again. Haruhi's hand was manically intertwined in his hair, creating a golden halo around the pair because of the backlights. Only the corner of his eye was visible, but Tamaki was able to interpret inconceivable passion radiating from the pupils. He swallowed hard and rerolled the paper.

"Ok then, my friends," Mameha sang. "Where do you want me to start?"

"From the beginning, obviously," Kyoya grumbled as he withdrew a pen to take notes. "May I remind you that we have no recollection of last night's unfortunate events?"

Mameha was unfazed by his rudeness. She clapped her hands together and smiled. "Ok, well I don't know exactly where the beginning starts for you, but I met the Host Club during the concert."

Kyoya twitched and examined her over his glasses. "Would this happen to be a Chartreuse Tofu concert?"

Her hair fell into her face, clouding her ferocious expression. The vein on her forehead popped past her bangs. "That isn't important," she growled.

Kyoya nodded, sarcastically. "I see. Is this important?" He removed the paper of song lyrics from his pocket and presented them to her. Her eyes bugged and she snatched it away. She stuffed it in her back pocket.

"Quit interrupting me, Ootori-kun! Sheesh, I liked you better when you were drunk."

Kyoya glared at Haruhi when she snickered.

"Anyway," Mameha droned, "you guys just walked in to the club where Chartreuse Tofu was performing. It didn't take long before Mori and I were feverishly love sick!" She looked up at Mori with puppy-dog eyes.

"How many of us were there?"

"You four," she affirmed. "As well as Honey-kun and the Hitachiin twins, but I have to say I didn't like those twins to much…"

Mori nearly jumped to his feet at the mention of his cousin's name, but was prevented from Mameha's weight on his lap. She at him, curiously, and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Patience, sweetie-pie," she fussed. "We flitted about for a while at the concert. After that Honey disappeared; the twins did too not long after. Hmmm, let's see: the five of us went out to eat, I tried to do Haruhi's hair...sorry about that, btw…, we came here to get our tattoos, and you guys ran off without me! Besides that, I don't know much. I wasn't exactly the most coherent woman on the town last night either, my little alcoholics." She winked.

Stunned, her audience stared at her with blank eyes. "Uhhh…huh," Kyoya grimaced. As their only known witness, her vague account was unsettling. "And what time did all this happen?"

"I don't know," Mameha said, airily. "One-ish…"

The hosts exchanged determined glances. Tamaki leapt to his feet and swept the dust from his pants. He brandished his beloved newspaper in the air like a sword. "We must go to the club! If that is the last place we saw Honey-sempai, Hikaru, and Kaoru, then maybe they would have gone back there looking for us too."

Kyoya rubbed his chin and typed a few more things into his cell phone. "It's a stretch," he drawled, "but it's the only lead we have left. Mameha-kun, do you think you could take us there?"

Mameha stretched out of Mori's lap like a slender cat. "I think I could spare the time," she purred. Her hips swayed seductively, captivating Mori's eyes like a hypnotist's pendulum. "Besides I could use another cup of coffee. To the _Tofu Truck_!"

-H-O-S-T-C-L-U-B-G-O-N-E-W-I-L-D-

"So Chartreuse Tofu isn't important, huh," Haruhi sneered.

A massive SUV was wedged in the slender alleyway like a dumpy barricade. It seemed just as worn down, abused, and exhausted as the drained host club. Written in a bright green over every inch of the rusted paint was and obnoxious inscription of Chartreuse Tofu. Most obvious was the etching of _Chartreuse Tofu Truck_ on the hood.

Mameha zipped in front of the group to shield the truck with her body. "This isn't what it looks like, so don't get any bright ideas!" She looked shiftily from side to side. "And no, Chartreuse Tofu isn't important."

"Well, what assumptions are we supposed to make," Haruhi continued.

Mameha crossed her arms. "Only that I know what I'm doing," she sniffed. She then snatched Kyoya's phone, mid-text, and starting clicking around madly. "I'm plugging the address into you GPS, Ootori. You can drive us there."

Kyoya raised an eyebrow as the girl waggled the keys and his phone before his eyes. Steam flowed from his ears. "Why," he asked through clenched teeth.

"Because I drove yesterday," she replied, simply.

"It's your car."

"It's your turn, Kyoya dear," she gushed. "Besides, Takashi and I haven't had good quality time in like _hours_." She caressed his cheek with a playful finger; Mori was all but putty in her hands.

Suppressing a ferocious explosion of nerves, Kyoya airily retreated to the driver's seat without another word. He slammed the door. The second the rest had squeezed into the van, Kyoya sped off with a screech of the tires. The sickening scent of foul meat wafting under their noses made their hung-over stomachs churn. Crumbled pamphlets were stuffed with torn fast food wrappers. Haruhi bent to retrieve one that caught her eyes. In neon letters the pamphlet read _Chartreuse Tofu performing tonight._ Underneath the caption bore visages of frightening looking men in black and green monstrous costumes standing behind a bright red headed girl screeching into a microphone. Haruhi grimaced at the grotesque photo before looking up at Mameha. She had a feeling that it wasn't a coincidence that Mameha looked identical to the girl on the pamphlet.

_Who did we get mixed up with now, _she whined internally as she sunk lower in her seat.

Mameha started cuddling up to Mori's chest the moment their doors snapped. Without permission, she stretched her long fingers across the expanse of his pectoral muscles. She leaned in closer, trying to capture his impassive lips in hers, but he pushed her forehead away with one finger. Her eyes turned white. Curtly, Mori reached over her and clicked her seat belt in to place. Then, he robotically retreated to his rigid sitting position.

"Oh, how sweet of you, Takashi! You must really love me, looking out for my safety and all that." Once again, she leaned in. She took his chin in her palm and turned him to face her. His lips began to quiver with nerves. "No need to be coy with my, my love," she cooed. She licked his upper lip, persuading his mouth to open. At this first sign of weakness, Mameha seized him and their mouths fit together like a puzzle piece. Lasers shone from his eyes in surprise. He was shocked, he could do nothing. He could simply let Mameha ravage him as if he were as defenseless as a corpse.

_Is this my first kiss, _he thought incredulously to himself. But when Mameha pushed her tongue against his own his mind became congested with panicked fretting.

"Let's see if I can help you remember last night, baby," she breathed. "It's impossible for you to forget _me_! To forget…_this."_ She tilted her head to nip at his neck and Mori felt every muscle in his body relax. Like a puppet, he let Mameha take control of his limbs and force his hand to her chest. Everything went as bright as a zolt of lightning at that moment.

Meanwhile, Haruhi glanced at them with disgust so strong she was frozen. _Mori-sempai, _her mind screamed, _What the hell? _Quickly, she slid another pamphlet before her eyes to shield her innocence for further damage from the groping couple. When her eyes rose again, they were glued to the emptiness straight ahead. However, Tamaki entered her view like a hovering creature. His eyes were just as white as hers. Fuzzy images of Mori and Mameha's indecent display were visibly burned into his retinas. They made eye contact and their faces grew red and shrunk into their necks reciprocally.

Within the Theatre of Tamaki's Mind, he couldn't help but view Mori and Mameha's bodies with his and Haruhi's faces glued over. He felt his eyes wet at the beautiful sight. Haruhi's eyes, however, flickered back and forth from Tamaki to the blissful couple. She couldn't help but wonder if she and Tamaki were just as disgusting the night before. She would have to ask Mameha!

When her eyes met Tamaki's again, he glowed with realization and grabbed Haruhi by the arms. Without the smallest squeaks she landed over his lap. They looked at each other meekly, and then looked away with a disgruntled growl.

"That wasn't necessary, sempai," she hissed.

"'Yes it was, what kind of father…I mean friend would I be if I let you so near to those insufferable perverts." Unconsciously, Mori lifted his leg from the back seat and powerfully kicked Tamaki's head rest. Dazed, Tamaki stuttered, "It's for your own good, Haruhi."

"Just as long as you don't get any ideas, sempai," Haruhi grumbled, sinking deeper into his lap as if she were trying to disappear.

Tamaki jerked, but remained silent. He stared out window pointedly, trying not to look as if he were pouting.

Kyoya glared at them from out of the corner of his eye and groaned. "I am surrounded by morons," he cursed under his breath.

Without taking his eyes away from the scene beyond the window, Tamaki retorted, "You are just jealous." Still, he felt the seething flash of anger from Kyoya's glasses. He swore that he sensed a hole burning through his back.

Hearts and stars were revolving around Mori's head as his delved further into Mameha's sultry kiss. Her hands were tangled in his ragged hair his were sliding dangerously near her waist band. He had never felt this way before; he could feel his life's determination and severity retreating from his heart as Mahema continued to melt it with her passion.

_Who am I, _he asked himself desperately. His mind, empty but for the ceaseless teasing of his inner desire, began to materialize a vision of a dark room. Flashing lights and a heavy bass were pulsating deafeningly throughout the room and a concentration of partying bodies sucked all the air out of the condensed space. He felt his consciousness separate from the crowd and merge with another's. He felt his eyes look down into a cloud of fiery red hair. His lips molded to someone's that felt just like Mameha's. _I'm guessing this is Mameha, _he corrected himself. When he came up to take a much needed breath, the looked over Mameha's neon head and saw something that made his conscious want to jump for joy. Honey was being rocked like a baby in the arms of a faceless woman. The stranger planted kiss after kiss on his rosy cheeks, leaving behind vestiges of pink lipstick.

_"I told you this is better than cake," _the memory of Honey gushed.

_"Ah," _his memory replied as his head bent back down to Mameha's beckoning lips.

As his focus returned to his situation in the car, Mori's head shot up in panic. His lips were puffy, and his eyes were wide in realization.

"What's wrong, Takashi," Mameha panted. He couldn't answer.

"We are here," Kyoya huffed. He quickly leapt out of the steamy van, and relished the cool air that settled his head. _Idiots, _he thought.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_**Part Nine: The Search **_

_**A/N: Happy New Year. Thanks to those who reviewed; it's really special to me! I mean seriously, I hate to be one of those people, but I am really encouraged when I see lots of reviews! So, if you want faster updates, I woulds like more reviews please. **_

A menacing shadow enveloped them as they beheld the decrepit warehouse Mameha's directions led them to. They stood defiantly before it, like soldiers observing a treacherous battlefield, but worry filled their eyes. The building creaked and groaned at the slightest breeze; to the Host Club the noises sounded like evil cackling. The presence of rusting support structures, stripped paneling, and broken windows were made all the more foreboding by the _Keep Out _and _Destruction Pending _signs and police tape clinging to every corner like ornaments on a tree.

Tamaki quivered and his nose began to drip. "This place is scary," he squeaked.

Mameha gave him a friendly slap on the back that propelled him into Kyoya's back. "Don't be chicken, Suoh-chan. It's decorated that way on purpose. Outsiders leave it alone so we don't have to worry about taking down shop inside."

"What's inside?" Haruhi speculated.

"You'll see!" Mameha cooed. She took Mori's hand and skipped forward to the warehouse. The other three hovered closely behind.

_No wonder Mori isn't denying her attention, _Haruhi chuckled to herself. _Her mannerisms are a lot like Honey-sempai's. _Her airy demeanor and jovial attitude mirrored Honey but with a more feminine twist. Haruhi honestly didn't imagine Mori's girl friend to be Lolita, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Wait!" Mamaha hissed and stopped where she stood. Her followers skidded to a halt, waiting for her command. She brought her hands up in a cautious martial arts stance and leaned her head against the flimsy entrance door. Her eyes narrowed as she panned the dark interior. She hopped deeper into the building, fixed rigidly in her stance. After a moment, she relaxed and signaled martially for the others to follow her.

The shredded ceiling allowed for blanched sunlight to streak the shadows of the room. Piles of trash and used cups and liquor containers were revealed amongst torn tickets and pamphlets identical to the one Haruhi read in the van. To Haruhi it was comparable to Nobu's mess but multiplied by a couple dozen. Technical bulbs hung from the ceiling, holding extinguished strobe and colored lights. In the far side of the room was a platform supporting blown audio amplifications and microphones.

"Who would want to steal any of this crap," Kyoya grumbled as he kicked a crushed can.

Mameha's form wavered with furious static. "Kyoya-kun, don't be _rude!"_

As Mameha began to solidify again, Haruhi proposed, "Hey, let's get going, guys. Let's find our friends and leave. This place is giving me the creeps!"

Tamaki laughed and nudged Haruhi with his pointy elbow. "Sounds like somebody needs a nap," he sang.

The vein on Haruhi's forehead twitched and she stomped away from him. "Hikaru! Kaoru! Honey? Are you guys here?" Her shrill voice reverberated against the walls, but no reply came from the darkness. As they all called and searched every dust invested inch of the warehouse. Mori used his finely tuned instincts to locate Honey like RADAR. Sadly, nothing replied to him either.

"This is pointless," Haruhi moaned as she searched through a trash filled closet.

"I just hope nothing bad happened to them."

Haruhi spun around and saw Tamaki staring at her, expectantly. "Maybe they are at their homes sleeping off their hangovers. Maybe they found girls like Mori did." He chuckled. "Hey, even we…" He stopped before the treacherous words rolled off of his tongue. He pursed his lips and scuffed his shoes into the concrete floor.

Haruhi stepped away from the closet and shut the door. "What _did_ we do, sempai? I mean we woke up in a damn bathtub. You were on top of me; I have a hickey; we were in the newspaper." Her eyes didn't dare to meet his so she glared at his shoes.

Tamaki realized with a jolt that this scenario reminded him of his fantastical theatre specials, but in reality he felt much more angsty and much less royal. He uncrossed his arms, trying to appear open to his distressed friend's problem. "The truth is, I can't tell you, Haruhi. I don't think either of us can be held accountable for whatever we did last night. But I've got a question for you now." He stepped closer; Haruhi had to crane to neck to meet his sapphire eyes, shadowed under his golden hair. She felt compelled to touch his hand that was so close to hers, but her fingers did no more than twitch. "Whatever we _did_ do," his mouth fumbled to begin, "I won't _hurt_ us, right? We…we're good, right?"

Haruhi had to smile. He looked so worried. If she was honest with herself, she would know that she was too. She gave into the temptation and moved in to close the gap between them, enveloping Tamaki in a warm hug. "Of course we are, sempai," she soothed. "You're one of my best friends. It would take a lot to ruin what we have. More than just a drunken night, I assure you." Tamaki smiled in relief.

Kyoya shuffled through the darkness, squinting into every shadow for a sign of an unconscious body. He had little doubt that they would meet perfectly safe and sound boys in this building, even if they were luckier than the assembled Host Club would be. Even though they had only been in the building for five minutes, Kyoya felt like he had been searching this forsaken building for hours; much too long to remain any optimism of success. His body tried to coerce him into abandoning all hope and begin the journey home to his bed; his spirit was beginning to betray him as well; it was a good thing that his heart loved the Host Club too much to give in. He didn't know how long it would take to convince himself, though.

"Hikaru! Kaoru!" he hollered. He put a hand to his ear to try to amplify any reply. When there was none, he continued: "Honey-sempai," he screeched. When only silence screamed back at him, he roared in outrage and frustration. He needed some relief from all of the stress this short day had thrown at him. Almost instinctively, his hand fell down to his jacket pocket and touched a hard box inside. Puzzled, he turned out his pocket and a cardboard box reading _Cigarettes_ appeared. He rose an eyebrow as he skeptically analyzed the pack. _Cigarettes, Ootori, honestly? You're better than this. I am never going to get drunk again! _He looked into the pack and saw a lighter and five cigarettes remaining. He assumed that he smoked all of the others last night. That explained why his lips urged for one now. With a heavy sigh, he looked around the room. His best friend was searching with Haruhi. He was floored to see that they seemed to be loosely holding hands. His eyes panned to Mameha and Mori. As he searched frenetically, she stood loyally by his side. Their flitting about looked like a synchronized dance. Kyoya sighed.

"I guess it's just you and me, my disgusting little friends," he conceded. He put a fresh cigarette up to his lips and touched the small flame to the tip.

Finally, after all of their unrewarded searching, a low buzz seeped into their ears. As it grew louder, they all turned their heads trying to identify its source. Each looked at each other and shrugged. The lights flashed and flickered. Mameha shrieked and held close to Mori. Once again the lights wavered; Tamaki slid a disgruntled Haruhi behind his back, protectively.

Kyoya exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke and when darkness returned again and demanded, "Who's there?"

The buzzing only grew louder. The lights flashed weakly.

"Kaoru?" Tamaki tried to sound strong. "Hikaru! Stop fooling around, you idiots, and come out where we can see you!"

The lights blared. Upon the stage stood five ghastly creatures adorned in black and green shredded leather. Their horrid faces were contorted with punk makeup and ravenous sneers. Mameha gasped as the mysterious people scanned them. The foremost individual raised a claw like hand and pointed at Tamaki's nose.

"Get them, boys!" he shrieked.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Host Club Gone Wild**

_Part 10: The Chase_

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. As always it is very encouraging and means a lot to me. I will be honest: reviews make me write faster. I have some great plans for this story and we are just getting started!_

Like phantom hawks, the five monsters descended from the stage in a fluid leap. They ran through the unsuspecting Host Club like soldiers on the front lines of the battlefield. They became shrieking banshees, howling curses at their foes as they stepped forward ominously. The Host Club was slowly being cornered like condemned cattle.

Mameha's fear induced paralysis spread to Mori through her hands clamped tightly on his bicep. He stared down the heinous monsters as an equally monstrous urge filled his spirit. _Finally, _he thought with a malicious inner sneer, _some action! _He unpeeled Mameha's flesh from him and stood before his friends like a lone wolf looking protecting his pack. His face remained immovable as he advanced towards the monsters. Likewise, the largest of the strangers presented himself before the rest. As Mori analyzed his opponent, he was surprised to see that his makeup was smeared around his Western eyes as if he had been crying; his hair was a natural blonde but dirtied and disheveled as if he had spent the night sleeping in the sewer; his gait swayed as if he were more drunk than all of the wasted members of the Host Club. With a simple nodded of his head, Mori affirmed that this sorry excuse for a man was hardly going to be worthy of a battle with him. All the same, Mori tensed in a preparatory martial stance and glared at the wobbly man with challenge raging in his eyes.

The stranger mimicked him and balled his fists. He lashed out with a weak right hook; Mori reacted by seizing his arm and making as if to flip him over. However, the man's feet held firm to the concrete floor and whirled around his left fist like a mighty wrecking ball. Mori's jaw caught the fist like a ball in a glove, catapulting him into the closest wall where he slumped to the floor. After a moment, his head rolled up to look at the massive man once again.

"Wow," he slurred. His head collapsed against his chest.

The air around his stunned friends exploded into lightning with fear. With terrified eyes, they glanced back to the creatures before them.

"_MAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEE EEHHHHHAAAAA!" _the lead monster howled in the cavernous warehouse.

Tamaki and Haruhi screamed wildly while Mameha burst into messy tears. Kyoya took a deep drag on his cigarette, then tossed it to the ground as he exhaled, "Well _damn._"

The rest of the men advanced and encircled the remaining Host Club. One grabbed Tamaki by the collar and lifted him up into the air.

"I am just going to _love _pounding your pretty face in, Suoh," he hissed.

"You're gonna pay for what your club did to us last night," another promised with a sickening confidence.

Tamaki whimpered. Haruhi was about to wildly protest, but she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She looked around to Kyoya who gestured to a wooden plank lying closest to her toes. She knelt down inconspicuously and clasped it firmly in her hand. Then, in one fluid movement, she rose and swung it at Tamaki's captor, smacking him smartly in his arm and forcing the release of Tamaki. The monsters swarmed like bees around them, but they scattered quickly. Haruhi hoped to find another wooden plank and make more damage on their attackers, but the gigantic man's bulky frame blocked her way from the board she had her sights on. She squealed in terror and began to back away.

"You…you stay back! You hear? I'm going to be…I'M A LAWYER!"

"Duck, Haruhiiiii!" Tamaki bayed like a wild man. Haruhi's knees instinctively gave way and she fell to the ground. In slow motion, Tamaki leaped over her head and swung the thick metal microphone stand at the huge man's unsuspecting head. As the giant clasped his bleeding nose, Tamaki grabbed Haruhi by the hand and they fled far away from the downed man.

From safety, they looked desperately for the distinctive shapes of their fighting friends. Kyoya had taken a loose microphone from the stage and was whirling it threateningly over his head to discern two goons to come any closer to him. Two more were chasing Mameha as she blathered incomprehensible pleads and them; however, she was effective at dodging them indefinitely. Mori barely stirred from his heap against the wall. Tamaki regrettably left Haruhi's side and raced to Kyoya's aid.

"Haruhi, listen to me!" he called over his shoulder. "Get Mori and get out of here!"

Haruhi stared at his fleeing back, incredulously. Her mouth twisted in a defiant sneer. "No way in hell, sempai," she declared and ran after him. She had a gut feeling that they had to see this fight through together.

One of Mameha's attackers saw the two teens racing towards them and groaned, "Not you again!" With newly found confidence, Tamaki pounced on the man like a rabid dog. Haruhi realized with silent approval that Tamaki's challengers would be handled. She spun to Kyoya's direction just as he clubbed on of his rivals on the side of his skull with the microphone.

"Yeaaah! Go, sempai!" She cheered him on and he offered a smug grin.

"Haruhi!" Kyoya rebuked, breathlessly. "For once, listen to Tamaki! Wake up Mori and WATCH OUT, HARUHI!" She turned according to Kyoya's command and a brutish shove pushed her into the ground.

She cried out, but began clawing and punching the weight on top of her even before she registered that the enemy was stuffing his hands in the pockets of the dress and even the crevice of her bosom, not defiling her but searching her.

"Don't tell me you don't have it! Where the hell is it, Fujioka?"

Haruhi froze for a moment and choked, "How do you know my name?"

Her assailant glared at her dubiously, trying to determine whether she was an idiot, when a blood piercing scream reverberated throughout the building; two screams in synch, in fact.

Two copper blurs whirled through the dimly lit warehouse in a frenetic fury. They snatched soon to be victims Tamaki and Mameha just as their aggressors were nipping at their heels; they scooped up a stirring Mori; and yanked Kyoya from his insane swinging spree. The four were abandoned at the side of the ruckus, spinning like tops until they collided with a loud smack. The flash of synchronized movement halted for a moment behind the beast accosting Haruhi.

"Well, there you two are," Haruhi huffed. Her captor turned around, furiously, but soon his pupils grew in fear.

With fire in their eyes the Hitachiin twins bent at the waist stare the creeper down to his own level. "Get your dirty mitts off of her," Kaoru said in a ghastly voice. "Punk," Hikaru finished with a hiss. Together they plowed their fists into the man's nose, launching him off of Haruhi and into an unseen twinkle far off in space.

Like worried, doting mothers Hikaru and Kaoru immediately dropped their ferociousness and encircled Haruhi protectively. "Young lady don't you ever do that to us again," Kaoru cooed and wrapped her in an embrace. As the twins continued to fawn over her, the rest of the assembled Host Club approached with mixed emotions of dissatisfaction and relief.

"I'm so happy to see you guys," Haruhi admitted. When she glanced down at their hands; her eyes narrowed immediately. "What's with the handcuffs, guys?" Metal cuffs encircled the brother's wrists, holding each other close as if they were Siamese twins. They jingled when the twins raised their arms in sign of defeat.

"It's a long story, Haruhi," Hikaru droned. "We hardly know ourselves," Kaoru admitted.

Haruhi glared at them. She had a haunting suspicion that their story would life up to their infamous nature; more trouble, indeed!

Tamaki puffed up his chest in preparation of giving the twins a ferocious fatherly lecture. "It's about time you two finally showed up. Where have you been? Who do you think you are not to answer Kyoya's text messages? And…"

The brothers stretched their arms to each touch a finger to Tamaki's running mouth.

"Don't play games with us, _Suoh!" _Hikaru spat, crossing his exposed arms.

Kaoru reciprocated. "Yeah talk about trying to break up our family."

"_We know what you did,"_ they taunted maliciously. Tamaki felt himself shrink with shame and embarrassment at whatever unknown sin he did before the twins' eyes.

While Kaoru shook his head in disappointment, Hikaru stuck his nose in the air and cursed under his breath, "_Pervert_." He looked fleetingly at Haruhi's scanty dress and disheveled appearance and sighed heavily.

Tamaki squealed in disgrace and forced himself to not make eye contact with Haruhi, who's accusing eyes he felt piercing the flesh of his back like a whip.

"Uh…not that I don't like bringing Tamaki to justice any less than the next fellow," Kyoya interjected, sounding a little shaky, but I don't think our new friends are going to give us time for a quaint reunion.

Behind him, the five thugs charged towards them for a second wave of attacks like brutish bulls.

For the first time in minutes, Mameha was able to swallow her fear to come to consciousness. She supported the woozy Mori, who dwarfed her shoulder, but summoned up a random tone of authority.

"To the Chartreuse Truck! Hurry!"

Without another word, and hardly a snide remark from the twins, they retreated with their lives. The warehouse had never seen so big until they were trying to escape from it as if their lives depended on it. For all they knew, they did.

"Mamehaaaaa!" a throaty sob followed them out of the building. "Baby, don't go!"

Haruhi looked over her shoulder and saw the big guy shaking as he was racked with sobs. The other goons were trying to push him forward to continue to the chase.

Haruhi slowed. "What's going on, Mameha? The big scary freak seems pretty sad," Haruhi said skeptically. Mameha curtly grabbed her by her ear and tugged her towards the car.

"No time, Haruhi! Get in the van before they get to their car. Maybe we can get away!"

"Not with this slug," Kyoya grimaced as he got behind the wheel.

Tamaki tossed his friends into the van like indestructible luggage in an attempt to hurry them into their flight. The goons from within the warehouse were running back to their own car, preparing for what would surely be the chase of a lifetime. When he hurled a shaky Mori onto the crusty shag carpet, he seemed to be aroused by the foul odor. His eyes became unglazed as he came to full consciousness.

"Wha…"he droned weakly. His eyes focused desperately on Mameha who was holding his head in her lap.

She smoothed the hair away from his forehead and planted a sweet kiss.

"You got KO'd, sweetheart," she cooed. "Sorry," she added.

His face striped with blue in mortification. The only person who had ever succeeded in defeating him was Mitsukuni! Now some western stranger had come and demoted him to little more than a white belt! His eyes twirled as he thought about the state of miserable being he was becoming without his cousin and best friend at his side. The shenanigans had gone on long enough; he was off his game and if he didn't find Honey-kun soon, then he would be in real trouble. Still, he hoped to himself that he would get a chance to meet the western giant again. He was confident that revenge would be sweet and thorough.

"Huphuphup! Let's go men," he commanded. He added with a singsong voice as he slammed the doors shut, "And don't forget your seatbelts."

Nimbly, he slid into the passenger seat, next to a seething Kyoya. "Drive as if your life depended on it," Tamaki demanded. Kyoya fumbled to get the van in gear and grumble to a start; for the first time in his life he looked as if he did not have the situation in control whatsoever.

"Floor it!" Hikaru cried.

The van shook and swayed and everyone emitted a shrill shriek. They all sweat dropped simultaneously as they looked out of the smoke smeared back window. Armored with a battered rusty car, the enemy repeatedly rammed into the bumper of the van. They laid on the horn like a furious scream, beating the van so hard that the rear window shattered.

Mameha screamed. "What are they doing to my van!"

Kyoya's eyes were wild. He grit his teeth, desperately willing the van to escape the ally faster. The tires screeched as they skidded into the busy street. Horns blared when Kyoya drove them into near collisions. The van leaned and tilted on two wheels as Kyoya raced through the traffic.

Whenever Haruhi looked over her shoulder, the foe's black car was right on their tail. They had butted the van so hard that their own windshield was shattered. She stood up shakily and leaned over Tamaki and Kyoya's seats to warn them.

"This isn't working. We're not shaking them," she hollered over the roar of the wind.

"I'm trying, Haruhi," Kyoya spat. "No back seat driving. We need to find somewhere to hide."

The twins rolled their eyes, simultaneously. "Good luck with that," they sighed. But suddenly, Hikaru brought a finger up to his lip in heavy thought.

"What we need is a diversion," he mused. Spastically, he leaned over Haruhi to yell into Tamaki's ear, "Boss, give me your socks!"

Tamaki flinched. "What? What are you talking about, Hikaru. Are you insane…This isn't the time for…find your own…." As Tamaki blathered furiously, Haruhi's eyes blackened in annoyance. Lithely, she slithered down over Tamaki's lap and into the foot cavity below. There, she began fumbling with his shoes.

The sweat drop on Tamaki's forehead boiled due to the heat of his heavy blush. Due to her odd climb over the seat, her lower torso and hips were precariously close to his face. His eyes bubbled as if he were viewing one of nature's most beautiful artwork. The warm weight on his thighs made him forget all worry and anger. As her fingers rapidly fluttered over his shoes and removed them, followed by his socks, she felt her soft touch on his ticklish toes. He smiled goofily, and dreamily cast his eyes to the ceiling. However, his eyes only caught Hikaru's accusing ones. His friend looked hurt, but brusquely shook his head and turned away.

In that time, Haruhi had returned from the floor and thrust the dirty black socks into Hikaru's hands. "What are you planning, Hikaru," Haruhi asked suspiciously.

"Watch and learn Haruhi. C'mon, Kaoru." Still handcuffed to his twin, the brothers meandered through the trash to the bed of the van in the way back. They positioned themselves dangerously close to the broken window.

"Careful, you two! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Haruhi fretted. She doubted the strength of the dilapidated rear doors. She feared that if they leaned on them, they would open and they twins wouldn't be able to get a grip and save themselves from the asphalt or the unstoppable car behind them.

They ignored her, smiling. As Kaoru pulled down an eye with a finger and stuck his tongue out tauntingly at their pursuers, Hikaru balled up the socks and held them up for the car to see. He brought them to his lips, clenched down his teeth, the jerked the socks away as if he were removing the pin from a grenade.

"My lord," Tamaki breathed as he watched the brothers' genius unfold, "That will work for sure. Kyoya why didn't you think of that!"

Haruhi was painfully confused. She spun on Tamaki. "What? What's going on?" Tamaki gripped her by the chin and forced her to return her sight to Hikaru's master plan.

Hikaru retracted his hand far beyond his head, making sure the brutes watched his every move.

"GRENADE!"he howled into the wind. Relishing the horrified looks on the bad guy's faces, he chucked the faux grenade through the broken back window and into the neighbor's broken windshield. The ruffians screamed and scrambled as they frenetically tried to retrieve the sock bomb and cast it out before if would explode, as they feared. Due to their distraction, they freakish driver spun the wheel and crashed them into a lamppost, where they were forced to a stop.

Hikaru and Kaoru laughed like mad and waved back them with their shackled arms. When the enemies figured out that the rancid ball of socks were not going to cause their demise, their scream of outrage reached the Host Club even as they continued to speed off.

While everyone else in the van cheered, Haruhi's face turned blue. "That was the worst thing I have ever seen you two do!" she whimpered, fearing to look at the murderous twins.

"I honestly don't care what they had to do to get us away," Kyoya retorted. "The point is that we got away from those freaks."

Tamaki slumped in his chair, flaccid with relief. "That's right, Mommy," he chirped, fondly. "Now, drive us to home base."

"What?"

"Haruhi's apartment. I think some people in our midst have some pretty serious things to answer for, but only after I get nice heaping cup o' commoner's coffee."


End file.
